Boop
by Rogue Cheeseburger
Summary: All the old and weary oneshots from my computer, as well as everything I'll come up with for later, mostly Jon focused.


So this is my attempt at publishing some stories that have been on my computer for a while, if you see something you like or would like to continue, go for it! No permission needed, but some credit would be nice.

This Story!

Title:I never thought of any titles

Summary: A Targaryan victory AU(original, I know) where Jon and Co are returning home after lots of time in the east, beore a short stop that.

Jon disembarked the ship and glanced at the sky, over the last hour, the clouds seemed to be trying very hard to rain, but it finally gave way to a clear sky, he loved the clear skies in Loroth and the strong smell of sea that seemed to spread around the entire city, if the weather kept up, he might be lucky to witness the sunset, it had been years since he last saw it.

"I recognize you…" Jon and Gerold turned to see a lean blackhaired man in some colorful drab standing behind him. "Gen-"

He was cut off when the White Bull's hand covered his mouth. "How about we discuss this in a more private setting and in a lower volume?'

He nodded, Gerold's hand still on his mouth.

They moved away from the crowds and towards a dirty alleyway some ways away from the docks.

"D'you even wash your gloves?" he said, his attitude still playful.

"We were on a ship for two weeks, am I supposed to jump overboard to clean the gloves?"

The man didn't even nod, but continued. "Now can I know what brings the First General and his unrelenting guard to our humble city?"

"Gods, is our disguise truly that horrid?"

"Yeah, wearing a hood will just entices the curious to see what's underneath."

"How'd you recognize me even then?"

"Oh please, back when we Lorothi were neutral, they gave away bounty posters with your face like candy." He paused for a second. "And before then there was the whole thing with the Duke's daughter…"

"Oh by the grace of the gods don't remind me…" he shrugged. "Guess they should have sent someone else." He slid down his hood and withdrew his sword.

"Now, now, no need for anything drast-"

"Shut up."

"I mean even if I tell, who'll bel-" His playfully tone finally turned serious with a look of pure shock.

"I'd rather avoid rumors, Shut up."

"I-"

It took a blade to his throat to shut him up.

"Now, I need an oath out of you."

The man seemed to deflate.

"Oh thank the gods." His let out a breath he was holding. "Fine what do you want me to swear to?"

He waited for Jon to finish before repeating the vow. "By every God on Earth, on the souls on my mother and father, I won't tell anyone that you ever returned to Lorath."

Jon nodded before sheathing his steel. "On your way then."

When he continued following Jon, Jon turned back to face him. "What?"

"I confess I really must know why you're here, I don't expect it is in the interest of tourism."

"Self preservation is a virtue."

"So is curiosity, at least according to some people."

"Go away."

"You gain nothing from turning on your ally and invading the city, not to mention you need us and to act as a counter weight the Qohor, so you're not here to review the defenses."

"Need I kill you to get you to shut up and leave me alone?"

"I know of you General, I've read your chronicle, you wouldn't kill in cold blood, which was I was so shocked when I thought you were going to do it earlier." He looked ahead. "Not to mention we're approaching a crowded area."

"I would be willing to face the executioner."

"What if I could help you in whatever it is you want to do?"

"This isn't some fairy tale where the commoner gets to help the famous warrior on some great quest."

"Try me!"

"No."

"My father's a noble! I have some influence."

For once, Jon and Gerold stopped. "Liar."

"No really I am third son of Leo Ipato, he's the second cousin of Doge Felice Ipato, which means I am in the line of succession!"

"Why'd you spend time on the docks like a common sponger?"

"It allows to build connections with the merchants and captains, anyway, d'you want my help or not?"

"Do you know a back way into the castle?"

When the boy nodded Jon huffed.

"I'll admit I have no patience for you Loarath nobles, you only joined in on the war only after Euron was handed many loses."

"No point joining a lost cause."

"Do you believe for a second Euron would have sat still after crushing us?" spoke Gerold for the first time.

"Nothing could have beat all Nine Free Cities united."

"Good luck uniting them." he scoffed. "I think Euron would have been coy enough to get you to fight each other."

"We had no way of knowing that."

Jon spoke again. "Yes, it's a perfect idea to underestimate that kind of man.

"Anyway, many important battles would have been harder without your heavy cavalry, so I'll humor you, I must speak with Doge about an urgent matter."

"Why not approach the gates of the castle then?"

"It's a private matter."

"Well then follow me."

Both Gerold and Jon raised their hood again and followed.

They walked for a couple of hours, passing various markets, beggars and whores, until the castle finally came into view, the continued approaching the drawbridge of the moat, but before Jon could tell the boy he wanted to enter discreetly, he ducked into quite a large inn, the innkeep let them pass into the back area without fuss, before they went down into a what looked like cellar.

"It was your coin that built this place." He said as took a torch off the wall, and opened a hole in the wall, which the three men entered.

"Really?"

"Yeah, either that or Bravosi coin back during the slave revolts, my father was still my age back then, anyway, with the money the revolvers built this place to sneak the slaves out of the palace, it was what sealed fate of the revolt,

"My father told me it was a right mess, one morning they woke up, all the slaves were gone and no one in the palace had any idea how to cook or clean, so after days of suffering from bread, olive oil and full chamber pots, and in the interest of saving money, instead of buying new ones, the idiotic Doge at the time sanctioned enslaving his own free citizens to cook and clean for the nobility and when their children and spouses didn't appreciate the fact their family was enslaved by their owned rulers, public support for the slaves began to increase,

"People stopped turning in slaves for the bounty and started hiding them, sometimes even the city militia tasked with capturing them would disguise them as fresh recruits, and when the prince and nobility realized they would soon have nothing to rule over…"

"He began a civil war that ended slavery and overthrew his father to become the Doge of Laroth whom still rules today." Jon finished for him. "Thank you for the history lesson, now when will I meet him?"

"We're almost here."

"We never got your name."

"You will in a bit."

After another few minutes of quiet, the prince finally seemed to get the guts to ask something.

"Is it true you and the Grand Chancellor…"

"Me and the Grand Chancellor what?" His tone made it clear it wasn't a question.

"Nothing."

After a few minutes of awkward silence, they ascended some stairs and came out of some wall in a hallway.

Jon and Gerold raised their hoods.

"Relax, now that we're inside, the guards won't dare stop a noble going about his business."

After walking for a minute though a voice came from behind them. "Prince Orso, where have you been!?"

"Prince?" Jon hissed.

"I told you I was in the line of succession." He whispered. "Uncle! How are you?"

"Your father was worried sick! Who's this you have with you?"

"Yes, my father, take us to him immediately, I wish to atone!"

"Us?"

"They're a friends of mine, whom I think father will wish to meet."

The man huffed and gestured for them to follow.

"What if he's in the throne room?" Jon whispered to the apparent prince.

"It's a Sunday, you'll sooner find him in the middle of the sea than in the throne room." It was Orso's uncle who answered.

"Where might he be then?"

"Just follow me." He said.

"I didn't know the Doge had a brother." Said Gerold.

"He doesn't, I am not his majesty's actual uncle."

"I still think grandfather should have adopted you."

The edges of the man's lips twisted. "He was stupid enough to do it."

Thankfully the way to the Doge's solar was close to the wall they came out of, and thus, they didn't pass to many people.

"Stay outside, the prince must see his father alone." Said the not-uncle once they arrived.

Instead Jon ignored him and went inside.

"You can't just..." Once both inside the prince and Gerold followed. "Apologies your grace, I shall have him thrown out of the palace at o-"

He went quiet once he had good look at Jon after he lowered his hood.

"You look familiar…"

"Unhand the First General of the Moro Dominion, Pietro." Spoke the Doge for the first time, before standing up from what looked like some important work or another on his desk.

"General." He said, extending a hand.

"Doge." Said Jon as he shook his hand and gave a slight bow.

"You should of send word, we would have thrown a feast in your honor."

"You flatter me, your grace." He replied curtly.

_I can do courtesy and politics!_

"Though I confess I must ask as to how did you come across my son."

"I found him posing to be some common sailor or sponger or gods know what in the docks." He looked to the prince whom had closed the door. "Good thing that I did though, because I need to speak to you privately."

The man gestured for him to sit. "Then feel free to do so here, I trust everyone here with my life."

"A few month ago, what we thought were pirates began raiding our northern shores."

He was certain they'd heard about that already, but continued.

"After The Northern Admiral was killed in a skirmish, I insisted on being sent as General to deal with it, with as little Dominion blood spilled as possible.

"Considering we never bothered rebuilding our fleet after we realized there was no way to beat Euron navaly , what with his creatures from the depths and whatnot, so I continued what the previous Admiral had begun and continued building a fleet in Saath and Sarys to deal with them.

"The pirates were of course destroyed after a few encounters with our superior ships and me in command." Maybe pride was a sin, but he felt like he had earned the right to it by this point.

"Your modesty is an example to us all." Replied the prince sarcastically from behind Jon, causing his uncle to attempt to smack him over the head only for Orso to dodge. "But I don't understand how it concerns us."

"It concerns you when we found this letter on their flagship."

He gave it to the Doge, who read it for a minute before replying. "This is a forgery, I've never written anything like this…"

"Calm, my Doge, we never implied that you wrote it." Brynden calmed the man down. "The Commander believes it was written by the Duke."

"The Duke? No, General, I remember what happened between you two a few years ago, but he is a loyal man he wouldn't undermine me like this."

"I never implied he wasn't loyal, but I recognize the handwriting, he isn't stupid enough to attempt to forge it himself, but I still remember his daughter's handwriting from the love letters she sent me, and the similarities between the two is unnerving."

"If he were loyal, then why do this?"

"I think it's one part the grudge he holds for me, another part glory hounding for himself and Lorath as a whole-"

"How could this gain us glory!?" Shouted Pierto from behind him.

"An eventual war with the Dominion, either we sat on this and the relations between us suffered or we would send a messenger who'd you'd deny everything to, resulting in the former or the Grand Chancellor would declare immediate war."

A silence reigned over the room for a few minutes before Pierrto broke it. "Gods damn you Duke!"

The Doge finally sighed. "What do you propose I do then?"

"He is your vassal, so I'll leave it to you, but remember he didn't betray you out of some ambition to become Doge, but he did undermine you, so make of that what you will."

The man nodded. "I am can't provide you any housing on the palace for the night, but once the Duke is punished..."

"No worries, your grace, we only stopped by to give you this."

The Doge looked like he wanted to speak before being cut off by his son.

"Actually, before you go, I wish to ask something of you."

"What is your grace?"

"I wish to become your ward, if my father allows it."

"I am not older than you by that much."

"Yet you're First General of one of the largest empires in the world."

"What I mean is, aren't you too old to be a ward?"

"I am only fourteen years of age."

He looked to the Doge with pleading eyes. "Your Grace?"

"I've no problem with my son finishing his education under the Exile of the Frozen Harbor, and it will hopefully mend whatever transgressions this issue has caused."

_I suck at all politics._

"I hope my Doge doesn't mind the fact we're heading towards Westeros." Said Gerold from behind him.

"I can speak the common." He said, in the common

"Wait Westeros? Whatever could you seek in such a savage place?"

"My father is a lord in Westeros."

"Oh." He looked a little awkward. "No offense meant."

"None taken," Jon paused. "I prefer you said your goodbyes now."

"Now? Won't he need anything?"

"I think I can replace whatever steel or cloth he needs, and I am in a little rush."

The Doge looked like he wanted to talk before his son cut him off again. "Goodbye Father, uncle, and do give my regards to my siblings."

He grabbed Jon's arm and hurried them out of the room.

"Let's go then."

"You're not close to your family are you?" asked Gerold as he left the room and closed the door.

"D'you think I spend so much time outside the palace because I have to? Now let's go."

After they had gone back into the wall and were walking back to the inn, Orso chuckled.

"What?"

"I just realized why you speak so weirdly."

"I speak 'weirdly'?"

"You say, 'Your Grace'."

"And you're supposed to say?"

"'My Doge', 'My Prince', 'My Chancellor', 'My General'…"

"I say that on occasion."

"A lot less than you say 'your grace' which isn't a thing."

"Yes it is! I've been saying 'your grace' to the Grand Chancellor for years…"

"I think she was too polite and everyone else to afraid."

_Polite my ass, she was enjoying me making a fool of myself._

"Gerold, is this true?"

"She was confused at first, but once I explained it, she thought it was funny, and convinced me to not tell you."

"You broke your vow."

"I vowed to share everything you asked and do as you commanded, and you never asked, so I technically, I never broke anything."

_Gods damn I am going to miss her._

* * *

He still wasn't sure what to make of Jon Snow.

He obviously knew who he was, everyone had heard of the Exile, or Deserter, of the Frozen Harbor, the Vindicator, or Craven, of the Twin Rivers, the Vanquisher, or the Butcher, of the Red Orchard.

The book '_The Complete Chronicles of Jon Snow'_, written by Elise Bernard, his companion for many years, was extremely popular in all of Essos, and Orso had yet to meet a young noble who hadn't read it.

While the man was terrifying or incredibly inspiring when he wanted to be, he didn't feel like the mental image Orso had for him, nor did anything he did.

For one thing, aboard the legendary _Balerion_, everyone's cabins we the same. The same tiny cabin, sure you could decorate it with whatever you afforded, and even had a nice little window, slightly above your bed, the problem was that the room was so _tiny._

When asked about it, he just said something about old habits dying hard.

Damned bastard never slept in his, preferring the couch in his much larger Solar/War Room.

Next was the rather nice cannons on deck, and between everyone's rooms, and while the Treaty of Essaria had made gunpowder technology available to everyone who considerably contributed to the Third Euronic War, these were a lot more advanced than anything Loarath had managed to develop. The Dominion was definitely leading this arms race there, even though the Yi Ti had it for two centauries prior, all they thought it good for was fireworks, that was until Euron showed up…

Finally was the armory at the first floor below deck, it had enough castle forged steel and advanced muskets and pistols to invade a reasonably sized island.

Though that was apparently normal according to crewmembers.

Right now though he was nearing the end of his daily three hour lashing, or as Jon called it, 'try to beat this man at least two bouts in five before trying to fight me, and five out of five before even considering Gerold.'

So far he had beat him three times… over the course of two weeks.

He stuck to one weapon, a singular saber, usually accompanied with a pistol in the other hand, Jon and his guard found this combo to be inefficient though Orso didn't relent. He used to believe he was quite proficient with the saber, but this _fucker_ believed otherwise.

Finishing up he turned and found Jon Snow at the helm, discussing something with the White Bull, the old man not training with the men for once.

Going up to speak to his new foster father, whom was apparently only five years older than he was.

"What's going on?"

"We're discussing whether we should dock at White Harbor or continue for the capital."

He threw up his arms. "Difference being?"

"One houses my biological family, the other houses the family that brought me up."

"Wait, your noble family lives in the capital?"

He nodded.

"That makes you either some minor noble or…"

"Not really, I'm a bastard."

"Meaning…"

"The only claim I have to the throne is the one I can claim with my steel, if you catch my meaning."

He huffed. "That's stupid, I'm third in line cause my older brother's a bastard."

"Be grateful it's the way it is else we would have never gone east."

All the stories always had the self-proclaimed 'Blackfish' at Jon's side. "So Gerold is part of the royal guard."

They nodded

"Then why bother protecting a bastard who'll never inherit?"

"My father was fond of me." Said Jon. "So fond he sent me to foster a thousand miles away with my uncle."

"To be fair to his grace…"

Jon cut him off. "You say 'His grace', not 'my fucking king'."

Gerold chuckled but ignored him. "You were never really comfortable in King's Landing, your uncle and aunt both saw you as beneath them, your brother casually bullied you and your sister ignored you, maybe he thought you'd thrive in Winterfell, and you did."

"Anyway, he gave me a pat on ass and sent me off, though Gerold is one of the best knights in the realm so I'll thank him for sending him me.

"What led you to the Free Cities then?"

"I wanted to join the Night's Watch, an absolutely ancient order that has fallen on hard times lately, but my uncles insisted I see the world first so, they sent me on a tour of the Free Cities, with permission from my father and with Gerold as my guard and the rest is history."

There was a pause before Orso spoke again. "So what're we going to do?"

"I say we just deal with the royal family first before we go and enjoy ourselves at Winterfell for a couple months before sailing back east." Proposed the White Bull.

"And I say, fuck that noise, we don't have to suffer them at all, we could just spend all our time in Winterfell."

"He's your father."

"Well what if my noble and gallant father decides we can't go back east again?"

"Ha, like we'd have trouble escaping."

"You'd come?"

"Course, I'd technically be obeying a member of the royal family, so no vows would be broken."

"Well it was thoughtful of you to consult your ward." Orso commented.

"Go man the oars."

"Nevermind."

* * *

Once they arrived at King's Landing, Orso had to admit it was impressive, comparable to Lorath, itself, save for the inescapable smell of shit in the air.

Though for some reason the atmosphere in the city seemed lively and celebrative, maybe it was just these westerner's culture.

The three men went off the boat and told them to sail back out and only come back when they fired a flare, less chance of someone discovering the cannons that way.

There was a little argument about whether Orso should come or say on board, but in the end Jon relented at his insistence.

Preferring not to walk, Gerold thought they'd be more welcome at the Red Keep if they showed up on palfreys.

While he was the best rider between all his siblings, he could barely ride half an hour before having to stop due to his tights burning.

Although Snow didn't seem to suffer from this same problem, he had a general dislike of riding, so he wasn't the only one against it.

"I would have thought you'd be more enthused, what with the Euronic Wars and everything."

He shook his head. "I always commanded from the middle of the infantry, with messengers coming and going, and marched with them normally, the cavalry I left to Gerold to march with and lead them in battles."

"But I remember you lead the final charge in the Siege of Treapian's Stone."

He huffed. "That was one final card I had up my sleeve to try and break the tongueless fuckers, I just rode around taking what men I could from this breach and that and leading them down the hill into the back of the cunt, and that was only because Gerold was recovering from an arrow to the knee at the time."

After a couple of hours they decided to rest in an inn and before entering the palace fresh in the morning.

Although for some reason most high end inns were full up, they had to say in the middle end ones, not spectacular, but they wouldn't have lice in the morning.

After booking a trio of rooms, they approaches the fire a few merchants and soldiers were huddling around.

Jon cleared his throat. "Hello friends." They turned to them. "Mind if we join you?"

The men shrugged and gestured to the side where there were a few stacked logs to sit on.

As each of the men tied his horse and sat on a log.

"What news of the war?" asked Jon.

_What war?_

"Haven't you heard? The krakens are all dead, and northward young Stark killed this Mance Ryder last month and his savages broke."

"They made it past the Wall?"

"Gods, have you been hiding under a rock?" said one of the merchants.

"You could say that." Replied Gerold.

"Well they made it half way down past the North to the Dreadford, or Dreadfort, or something, they even held the place for a week."

"You'd think a man smart enough to unite the wildlings would know he couldn't keep this up for long."

"Oh I hear he knew," One of the soldiers spoke for the first time. "Though none of the lords bought this 'peacefully settling the Gift' so the ravening mad men finally showed their colors and began raping and pillaging, just in time for the damned Iron Men declared independence again, It only failed he first time because the White Bull crushed Euron at Fair Isle,

"Though they would have gotten away with it too this time, if I weren't for the fucking Redwyne twins, the fuckers have something between their ears after all."

"Whatever happened to the White Bull and Euron? Neither took part in the either wars." Asked one of the merchants.

_If only they knew_.

"I remember hearing Euron died during the battle of Fair Isle, as for the White Bull, he followed Rhaegar's bastard east, but I'm sure they're both dead by now." Replied Jon.

"Good, we avoided another Blackfyre Rebellion."

"I wouldn't be so sure, the White Bull is honorable and stubborn, not to forgot Rhaegar's bastard is half Stark." Gerold replied.

_These fucking jokers_

"Careful, the three of you, speaking of Rhaegar's son like that, he loved the boy, still believes he's alive, a hundred dragons on return, ten for the body."

"Interesting." commented Jon "Anyway, what are they doing to celebrate?"

"You've really been hiding under a rock."

"What're they doing?"

"Well Lord Stark didn't want to do anything." Said one of the merchants. "But the King insisted and now they're planning a tourney in the Red Keep every lord in the realm is invited, I'll be like a second Harrenhal."

"Let's hope it doesn't end the same results."

After a few hours of sitting by the fires and eating, and a few rude comments about being a foreigner, Jon stood up

"Well it was lovely meeting you, but I really must retire, it's been a long day."

"Me too." Said one of the merchants. "I figure you're going back to hide under your rock?"

Jon chuckled. "Not for a few months at least."

Gerold stood up as well. "I must rest too."

Not trusting himself with the foreigners he stood up and followed the two.

Once they were sufficiently far away Orso asked. "How'd you know there was a war?"

It was Gerold that replied. "You see it in the streets, more women working jobs they wouldn't normally do, though the full inns indicates people attending a tourney or an inexplicable reason."

Huh, he guessed he just assumed it was how this society functions.

"So we're going to the Red Keep tomorrow?"

Jon nodded. "Looks like we won't have to go to Winterfell to see the Starks after all."

* * *

The next morning they made their way into the castle, they had a little trouble passing the guards, but the duo played the part of visiting knights and him as their shared squire.

Once inside they began wandering the halls.

"Gods it's been years." Said Jon.

"Hasn't changed a bit has it?" Replied Gerold.

"Nay it hasn't, when was the last time we were here?"

"I think we visited once or twice during your fostering."

"Yeah, I remember Aegon was less of a cunt then."

"He must have grown up." Orso said, trying not to be excluded from the conversation.

Both men nodded and continued their wandering.

They eventually came across a man Jon seemed to recognize, he told both men to stay still and raised his hood.

"Milord, I's just wandering where his lordship Stark may be." He said a creaky voice.

"What business do you have with Lord Stark?"

"It's a rather important matter." He paused. "It might end with you having an extra hundred dragons by the end of the day."

"If you're implying my loyalty can be bought…"

Jon cut him off. "No, no milord, no need for violence, then you might end up knocked out, or with only ten dragons."

"Is that a threat?"

Before Jon could say anything, the man seemed to lose patience.

"Enough if this, you're coming with me to Lord Stark."

"That was all I asked milord."

After Jon was taken, or pulled by the arm, to who Orso guessed was Jon's foster father, both he and Gerold followed, though staying out of sight of the man.

After a few minutes they reached someone that looked like an older Jon, and with someone who looked like a younger older Jon, but not Jon himself.

Once the man who was pulling Jon arrived he spoke. "Apologies, my lords Stark, but this man attempted to buy me and when I refused, he threatened me."

Old Jon's warm expression turned to ice, and the younger Gerold tried to imitate old Jon, but neither man's expression even sized up to what he called Jon's 'Judgment Gaze'.

"Who are you, man?"

The man threw down his hood, and looked at the three men's now shocked expressions.

"I would have thought it would take you longer to forget me, uncle." His voice the same confident tone that Orso had gotten used to.

After initial shock, a few hugs and snarky remarks, he was presented as a freed slave whom had agreed to stick with them, which was more accurate than he was comfortable admitting, they were taken before the king, sitting on the largest gods forsaken throne he had ever seen.

A symbol of power, surely, but it looked like it could kill the king if he tripped.

Heh, that would be a way to go.

Once there, Jon's expression lacked the warmth I had when meeting his foster father, and as he later learned, foster brother.

Though the man on the throne seemed delighted, even stepped down and gave Jon a hug before climbing back to the top.

"Oh, son, words cannot express how happy I am to see you again!"

"I wish I could say the same father, but I am happy to see you again nonetheless."

_Maybe the greatest tactical and strategic mind in the last thousand years, but he can't lie for shit._

"It seems the bastard has returned home after so long." Said what could be described as the most beautiful woman Orso had ever seen, as she entered the throne room, with someone that looked like a younger king.

"Mind your tone sister." Said the king, killing any laughter at the princess' barb.

She grinned and Jon ignored her.

"Now, son, I must know what you were doing so long in the east."

"Nothing I'd deem relevant."

"Not planning on taking the throne, right brother?" said the man at the bottom of the throne, only half-jokingly.

"Oh if I wanted to brother, you'd never see it coming." Causing the entire court to hold a breath.

_By the gods he's horrible at this._

The White Bull cleared his throat. "Your grace, I swear on my honor as a Hightower and as a member of the Kingsguard that Snow has no ambition for the throne."

Jon seemed a bit perplexed. "Wait, you actually thought I was serious?"

"You'll have to forgive us brother, you were never the most japing person."

He shrugged.

"So, son," the king spoke again. "I take it you've reconsidered your stance of the Night's Watch?"

He nodded, now bored with this whole thing.

"Well then it'll be a pleasure to have you in the Keep again…"

"I am afraid it's only for a few months, afterwards I must return to my duties in the east."

"You have duties in the east? Would they involve babies and diapers?" Joked the man who looked much like the king, causing the court to laugh.

"Why? D'you want one?" Orso let his tongue get the better of him.

The prince glares at him. "I'll have your tongue boy."

"You'll do no such thing."

The prince had the gall to try to glare him, but it was futile to try to outglare Jon, so the prince flinched back.

"Silence!" Commanded the king.

After a few seconds of quiet, Jon spoke again. "As I was saying, your grace, my stay will have to remain temporary."

"Why? What's so important in the east, our last report was five years ago, something about a scandal in Loaroth."

"As I said, nothing I'd deem to relevant."

The king, probably figuring he couldn't get anything from someone nicknamed 'Hardnose', relented and dismissed him.

"Oh, and Jon."

"Yes?"

"I am assuming you'll want the White Bull to return with you?"

"Yes."

"And he's agreed to this?"

"Your grace, I'd prefer to return east with Jon, I've grown fond of him over the years."

The king nodded.

After they were out of the throne room, before Jon could tell them what to do for the day, they were intercepted by Jon's brother.

"Will you join me for sparing?"

"Nay, I'm afraid I long to see my mother's family again."

"Afterwards maybe?"

"Neither then, I am afraid, I've no time."

_Huh, Snow can hold a grudge._

"Are you participating in the tourney at least?"

"I've no affinity for playing at war, though I am sure Ser Gerold and Orso will be eager to join."

"What would you know of war brother? I was there in Pyke when we ended this rebellion, I slew a half a dozen men and Theon Greyjoy in hand to hand combat, then was knighted on the spot by the blackfish himself!"

_That's so adorable._

Both he and Gerold chuckled.

"However could I stack up to that?"

* * *

After the distasteful meeting with the King, Jon dismissed Orso and took Gerold and himself to reunite with a family they hadn't seen in years.

He had to admit, there was a time about a year before the Third Euronic War, when Gerold despised having volunteered to accompany Jon Snow, or as he was known at the time, Jon Waters, to Winterfell.

Originally he felt bad for the boy, though that started disappearing after Jon had gotten to Winterfell.

But when he agreed to go on the tour of the Free Cities, dear gods and saviors the first six month were the worst of Gerold's life, the boy decided to live as much of life as he could before swearing celibacy, and Gerold didn't like shepherding the boy to his room after he was almost passed out drunk, or defending his honor from the brothers and fathers of the women he despoiled, but Gerold had sworn an oath, and he took those seriously.

After the boy was thought killed by one of Euron's war parties -after they had escaped Lorath with their lives, the boy having thought with his dick, again- a small part of Gerold was disappointed that he failed his duty, but a larger guiltier part was overjoyed that he was finally free from the boy.

But no such luck, the boy got it in his head to fight Euron's armies and thus join a Dominion's army, and although Snow was appointed lieutenant, Gerold found no joy defending him from the scarps he got into, or from the yelling of the, at the time, fourth appointed First General in the five years of the Third Euronic War.

So after the boy was finally kicked out of the army, located on the appropriately called Frozen Harbor, for causing a riot that nearly ended in bloodshed, Gerold was forced to join him.

At that point he had never regretted any vow he took more than those of his white cloak, a war against a mad man that mutilated all people he came across was just the thing Gerold was itching for since the War of the Nine Penny Kings, though thanks to the idiot boy, he'd miss it.

Though that was when his luck, and apparently that of the Dominion, changed, after the Army of the Frozen Harbor was destroyed, the First General falling with it, the survivors began rallying behind the popular 'exiled' lieutenant, who decided he wanted to fight the army under one of Euron's Generals that was heading in their direction.

And for one second he respected the boy, he knew he's die, but every soul he took before dying would be one that could rape and pillage the country side.

That was until the boy reveled that he thought they can win.

_Win._

But win they did, Snow's plan had a few flaws, but after Gerold pointed them out, and the more experienced members of the army corrected them, they actually scattered an army seven times the size of theirs, which the previous General couldn't even hold back in a fortified fort with much more favorable numbers.

After that Gerold dreaded the boy would become narcissistic, though his first battle had washed any trace of the arrogant boy from Winterfell out of him, he was still proud, but never arrogant, something about realizing you're as mortal as everyone else does that to a man, and Gerold respected Snow ever since.

Afterwards Snow earned the moniker 'Vindicator of the Twin Rivers' was appointed First General at fifteen, although he lied about his age to get into the army in the first place, and was given the funds to build an army, and a few major battles, a couple hundred minor sieges and skirmishes, and a few more monikers, Jon forced Greyjoy to a final battle in the small village of Kilmoor, where he slew him in single combat.

So that's how in two years, the seemingly immortal and unstoppable Euron Greyjoy was stopped, his entire legacy melting before his final eye.

Afterwards, Jon agreed to attend the Grand Chancellor's court, taking Gerold with him, the White Bull liked and respected the young woman, although she was given the seat at the age of ten, at the breakout of the Third War, she had kept the Dominion from falling apart, so of course Snow had to fall 'in love' with the her, and she smitten for him too, and it was an open secret at court that they were sleeping with each other.

Though that was less frowned on than it was in Westeros, so long as the babe carried the Chancellor's blood, it didn't matter who he or she sleeps with.

Apparently she would have married him too, he was beloved by both the common people and the nobility, and the match between her and someone as renowned as him would have cemented her position, but the Chancellor weren't allowed to marry before the age of twenty, an old law proposed by a Chancellor from centuries ago who was forced into eight different betrothals and four marriages before he even came of age.

So four months before Snow and the Chancellor were set to marry, Jon decided he was homesick, a sentiment shared by Gerold.

It wasn't that Gerold didn't enjoy his time in court, he met a man that managed to become very dear to his heart, though thankfully only the Chancellor found out about that, but she was too smart for her own good.

Snapping him out of his day dreams about Ivan was a young Bran that jumped into his arms.

"I've missed you!"

"Look at you, running about, the last time I saw you could barely crawl."

The young boy scowled. "I was already climbing back then!"

Gerold shook his head. "I ill-remember it, maybe I am getting old."

"Ser Gerold, it has been too long." Cat gave a polite curtsey, he returned it and planted a kiss on her knuckles.

He looked and saw Jon was hugging Arya and greeting his eldest cousin, there was also young Sansa standing next to her mother and the youngest lingering behind his father, though from what he remembered the boy was still three by the time they left.

"How's the capital been treating you?" Asked Jon as he made his way to the table in the middle.

"It's enjoyable." Said Robb. "The tourney is in a few days, and I plan to participate walking the streets is a good way to meet many new and interesting people."

"From what I hear it's now 'Ser' Robb, how does it feel?" asked Gerold.

"I am actually proud." Replied Robb. "The King himself, can you imagine that? I still don't know what I did to deserve it."

"I am sure it was nothing I wouldn't do." said Jon with a grin.

"I was there too!" said Bran. "Well, maybe not where he was, but I squired for Uncle Brynden and fought in Pyke!"

"Brynden eh? The Blackfish's still kicking?I'll have to pay him a visit sometime."

Jon nodded.

"What did you actually do in the east? Lord Manderly told me merchant's stories about wars with a dominion and some fish man."

Fish man, huh, that was actually the good name for the late Greyjoy.

"We were the area when it went down, the Dominion is a dominion established a few centuries ago by nomadic horse lords called the Dothraki sometime after the Doom." Jon listed. "They did a surprisingly good job of infusing both their culture and that of those they conquered, the Dominion is considered one of the most advanced empires to date."

"What about this war with the fishmen?" asked Arya.

"I'd much rather know about this war with the wildlings and Greyjoys, they tell me the wildlings made it all the way to the Dreadfort, the Greyjoys apparently raiding up and down the Mander before the Redwyne twins did something about it."

"Well it all started when the islanders declared independence, _again_, except this time they started by taking the shield islands and the Redwyne fleet was destroyed, Paxter Redwyne dying with it.

"We were requested south, so I got a small army together and took it south, though Robb was insistent on leading it himself, he was sick and I didn't let him, the plan was, I'd go south with whatever I could raise in little time, and then he'd raise whatever the North had left and then follow me south,

"Then a surprise attack came, the wildlings took one of the castles on the Wall, then all the Wall, and the leader Mance Ryder tried to open negotiations about the wildling settling the gift, but then, one of his raiders got impatient and went for a raiding run across the North, he was killed by the Greatjon, but it ended all hopes for peace, and if it wasn't for your cousin here, the entire North would be overrun."

"You'll have to tell us all about it later, I am proud of you."

Robb beamed again at the praise of his great-uncle, maybe the whole military thing was from old Lord Rickard's loins.

Then he asked. "So what about you two? You've been in the east gods only know how long, any interesting stories? We saw the scene in the throne room, what duties."

Jon opened his mouth to bullshit before a knock came from the door. "Erm, excuse me, milords, but his grace-" Jon muttered something underneath his breath. "-Requests the presence of his son in private, alone."

Jon buried his head in his hands, but stood up and complied all the same.

"I'll be back in a bit, save some of the good stuff for me."

As soon as the boy was out of the room Ned asked him. "What have you been doing in the east? Really? You've been gone a while, you must have done something."

Gerold stared absently at the ceiling and considered his answer, Jon had been resolute that no one in the capital catching wind of what they did, but even if the walls did have ears, one small story wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Well you know how your cousin got a market square named after him?"

Everyone seemed to lean in, even Sansa, whom had previously liked to pretend her cousin didn't exist.

"Well the war you mentioned was going on, and we were soldiers' in the Dominion's army…"


End file.
